


Valentines and Denial

by amiraculousladybug



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiraculousladybug/pseuds/amiraculousladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien discovers Marinette authored the anonymous valentine, and now he can't stop noticing her</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Discovery

Marinette had never been so thankful for an assigned partner project in her life. Thanks to the random assignation of partners, she was now sitting across the library table from none other than Adrien Agreste. And she would get to sit across from him like this for two whole weeks during study hall! She wanted to kiss Tikki for the good luck she had brought along with the role of Ladybug.

“Marinette.”

She jumped a little out of her seat and realized Adrien had been trying to get her attention. How long had she been out of it? God, how long had he been trying to talk to her? What if he thought she had been ignoring him?! “Y-yes?” she said, louder than was generally acceptable in the library. Somebody from behind one of the rows of bookshelves made an irritated shushing sound. Marinette felt her cheeks flood with heat. “Um … I'm sorry,” she apologized in a quieter voice. “What did you say?”

Adrien gave her a patient smile and leaned over the table towards her where she sat with her notebook spread open in front of her. “Do you have any ideas for our project? I know history isn't really the same as fashion, but you're pretty creative.” He laughed, a sound that made Marinette's heart skip a couple beats. “I can't really say the same for myself.”

“Oh, um … ” Dang it, why could she never talk to him coherently? There was something about those green eyes and that open smile that made her words jumble in her mouth and come out all wrong. “I … well … ”

He reached over towards her notebook. “May I?” he asked, his fingers barely brushing the pages as he waited for permission. Marinette nodded wordlessly, and he slid the notebook across the table to look at the ideas she had scribbled down during class.

Adrien examined her doodles and scrawled notes with interest. So her creativity _wasn't_ just limited to fashion. He had expected as much. Although he had never gotten a chance to get more than a few broken and confusing sentences out of her at a time, he had overheard her gushing over her ideas for various projects with Alya behind him in class. She always seemed to have something new up her sleeve.

Then he noticed something that nearly made him choke on his own breath.

Marinette's handwriting looked remarkably familiar. Unbelievably familiar. He would recognize the neat, rounded letters anywhere. After all, hadn't he read and reread that valentine until the paper was worn and crinkled at the edges? Marinette's writing looked exactly like the writing from the anonymous valentine.

“Adrien?” Marinette asked him tentatively. He glanced up at her and saw a look of concern plain as day on her face. “Is everything okay?”

Adrien swallowed against a throat that was beginning to close up with disappointment. Of course the valentine hadn't been from Ladybug. How could it have been? She only knew him as Chat Noir, and he knew from experience that she wanted nothing to do with Chat Noir's flirtations. It had been a silly, childish thing to hope for. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he lied.

He'd known from the start. He'd known it was stupid to hope.

So why was this making his heart hurt so much?

Marinette gave him a dubious look but turned her attention back to her history book. Adrien snuck a peek at her despite himself, his disappointment fading a little. She was a nice enough girl, and her concern for him was pretty touching.

Was it really the end of the world if Marinette had sent the valentine and not Ladybug?

He shut down that thought before it could go anywhere and slid Marinette's notebook back over to her.

~

Adrien was beginning to wish he had never looked at Marinette's notebook.

Despite his best efforts to the contrary, he found himself sneaking glances at her between classes, seeking her out after school, even going out of his way to sit near her when they did warmup stretches in gym. Her presence behind him in the classroom felt like the warmth of a small sun on his back. He was beginning to notice little things about her, tiny habits and mannerisms he'd never really paid attention to before now. He noticed the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed, hiding her smatter of freckles; he noticed how her lips tended to quirk up on one side when she was being especially creative with her fashion designs; he noticed that she always squared her shoulders and straightened her back before confronting Chloe, as if to make herself taller. When she brought a snack from her family's bakery, she always made sure she had an extra for Alya. When somebody talked to her, she always met their eyes squarely and attentively—except, of course, with Adrien, around whom she continued to stammer and stare down as if the floor was the most interesting thing in the world.

He tried to talk to her. He really did. But the few times he tried, she jumped nearly out of her skin and couldn't seem to get any words out. They were able to continue with the project just fine, albeit with very limited communication. Their time in the library primarily consisted of the two of them working silently on their respective portions of the project. And whenever he tried to bring up anything other than the project, her ability to speak seemed to vanish. Adrien was beginning to wonder if she was afraid of him, and, if she was, what he had done to frighten her so badly. She had sent him that valentine, after all, so she must like him, right? So why did she act like she wanted to be anywhere but around him?

It was a crying shame, he thought. She was spunky and intelligent, rather like his lady, and if he hadn't had feelings for Ladybug he imagined he might have easily developed feelings for Marinette instead. If only she would show that same spark around him that she showed around other people.

Finally, he decided to try just asking her outright. The worst that could happen was getting the usual incoherent stammering.

“Marinette,” he said while they were putting the final touches on their project in the library. It had turned out quite well, and he was willing to chalk most of the credit up to Marinette's inventiveness. She seemed to have thrived on the setbacks they'd had, and the final product was even better than he had anticipated. “Can I ask you something?”

Marinette started, but met his gaze. That was a good sign, he supposed. He felt himself grow short of breath, though. He had never noticed quite how _blue_ her eyes were until now.

Blue like the heavens.

No, he thought firmly, and shoved the thought to the back of his mind. He was _not_ going to turn Marinette into a substitute for Ladybug.

“What is it?” she asked. Another good sign, he noticed; she'd managed a coherent sentence without a single stammer.

He picked up a scrap slip of paper and spun it between his fingers in an attempt to calm the nervous jitters that were forming in the pit of his stomach. Why was he getting nervous? This was Marinette, not Ladybug. If he could flirt with his lady, surely he could manage small talk with a classmate. “I was just wondering … are you avoiding me?”

Marinette's jaw dropped in what looked an awful lot like mortification, and he watched as a blush swept her face. The poor girl was turning a shade of red that bordered on the color of Ladybug's costume. “No!” she exclaimed, rather more vehemently than he thought the question warranted. She seemed to realize she'd raised her voice too much and clapped her hands over her mouth. “No, of course not,” she said from behind her fingers.

Adrien looked at her, baffled. “But I'm the only one in class you never talk to.”

“That's not … ” Marinette started, her cheeks somehow growing even redder. She cut herself off before she could finish. “I … I'll see you tomorrow, Adrien.” Before he could protest, she scooped up their project and darted out of the library, shoving the project into her bag as she went. Adrien was left standing by himself, utterly confused, in the middle of the room.

“Do you think I scared her off?” he asked Plagg, who was poking his head out of Adrien's bag and munching on a piece of Camembert cheese.

The kwami merely grinned and shrugged. “Who knows? She's always been freakishly shy around you.” He shoved the rest of his cheese wedge into his mouth and swallowed with a loud gulp. “What difference does it make? You got your project finished.”

Adrien bit his lip. “It makes a lot of difference.” He didn't dare voice what he was feeling, not wanting to admit why he cared, not even to himself.

He was beginning to fall in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

 


	2. Criss-Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew this was just going to dig his grave further, but he'd taken the plunge and now he would have to live with the consequences.

Adrien's mind was not entirely present during patrol that night, to say the least.

_“I was just wondering … are you avoiding me?”_

_“No! No, of course not.”_

_“But I'm the only one in class you never talk to.”_

_“That's not …”_

“Chat, be careful!”

He looked at Ladybug in confusion, jolted out of his thoughts, and then looked ahead just in time to avoid running into the lightning rod of the building they were currently traversing across. “So kind of you to worry about me, my lady,” he remarked with the usual grin he saved especially for her.

She rolled her eyes. “That's the third time tonight I've had to stop you from running into something. Is everything okay?” She came over to him—she had been walking on the far side of the roof—and folded her arms across her chest loosely.

“There's … this girl … ” Chat started, and then immediately cut himself off before he could say anything else. Oh, _God_ , no. He just admitted to thinking about a girl besides his lady.

_Please, let her think it's a joke._

Ladybug looked taken aback for a good ten seconds before a slow smile came to her lips. “That's great,” she said. “I'm happy for you.”

_No, no, no, no, no!_

This could not be happening! How could he admit to possibly having feelings for another girl? He would never be able to tell Ladybug he loved her now, not when she thought he liked someone else. She'd never believe him. Could this night get any worse?

“I—” he said, and hesitated. What was he supposed to say? What _could_ he say? _I have to repair the damage, damn it!_ “That's … I'm not really … I'm not sure. How I feel, I mean.” He looked down at the roof tiling beneath his feet and wished he could go back in time to stop himself from blurting out such stupid things. “I just … I mean, she just … she wrote me a love letter, and it … ” Chat took a deep breath. “It was really nice,” he admitted. He knew this was just going to dig his grave further, but he'd taken the plunge and now he would have to live with the consequences.

Ladybug said nothing.

Chat waited for her to speak, but seconds crawled on into minutes and she still hadn't uttered a single word. Nervously, he lifted his gaze up from the roof to meet her eyes, those beautiful eyes that always managed to steal his breath away.

_Blue like the heavens._

She seemed to shake herself and then lifted an eyebrow at him. The familiar playful, amused expression she usually wore around him was back on her face under her spotted mask. “So … what are you going to do about it, kitty?”

Chat gaped at her. What was he going to do about it? “I don't know,” he confessed. Apparently the night could get much worse. Now she was trying to help his love life go in a direction he wasn't even sure he wanted it to go in. This was becoming a catastrophe. And for once the pun wasn't intended.

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his expression with something that looked like an odd mix between concern and amusement. Then she heaved a sigh and looked away, out over the skyline of Paris. “Honestly, I'm probably the worst person to give advice on this kind of thing. I … there's this guy I like, and, well …” She laughed bitterly. “… I don't think he notices me at all. I can hardly even talk to him.” She sat down on the roof, dangling her feet over the edge, and sighed again. Chat plopped down beside her without hesitation. Ladybug seemed so lost, so very unlike her usual confident self that he wasn't sure what else to do.

He sighed, and Ladybug glanced over at him from the corner of her eyes, her lips curving up in the bare beginnings of a smile. He could almost swear he heard a tiny giggle escape her.

He gave her a crooked smile in return—with such a serious discussion, he couldn't quite manage a full grin. “My lady, you're incredible. I can't imagine that anyone wouldn't return your feelings.”

Ladybug looked startled for a moment, but then her smile was back, much brighter and wider and happier, so much that Chat's heart ached. He thought there might be a tinge of pink dusted across her cheeks, but he chalked that up to the lights of the city. “Thanks, Chat.”

He gave her a mock bow as best he could from his sitting position. “Always happy to help, my lady.” He didn't say anything about how he wished he was the one she liked. She would only laugh it off as a joke.

She stood up and then hauled him to his feet. “I'm serious.”

“So am I.” She had grabbed his hands to pull him up; he closed his fingers around hers. “Ladybug, I—”

Abruptly, she jerked her hands out of his and resumed walking as if they had never taken a break from patrol in the first place. “Let's go, kitty. I'd rather not be awake all night.”

Chat sighed. “Yes, my lady.”

~

Marinette stared up at her ceiling, willing herself to fall asleep. She had been lying here for nearly an hour now, and she was no closer to falling asleep than she had been when she'd first lain down. Her mind couldn't seem to stop replaying what had happened during patrol. As soon as Chat had mentioned a girl, her stomach had started to clench itself into knots. She had managed to force her face into a smile, but she wasn't sure it had been convincing. There had been a world of despair in his eyes.

It had taken everything in her to try to help him, to ask him what he was going to do about it. The words had felt heavy in her mouth, like marbles. What she'd really wanted to say was something else entirely.

_I thought being your lady meant you only had eyes for me._

Then she had made the mistake of mentioning her crush on Adrien, and she had been forced to watch Chat's face crumple further into sorrow. And after that—oh, God, after that—he had still looked at her as if she meant the world to him, and called her incredible. Even though she had firmly devoted her heart to Adrien, she could feel it racing in that moment. When he'd taken her hands in his, she had pulled away as quickly as possible, but part of her wasn't sure it had been quick enough.

When had his flirtations gone from annoying to endearing? When had his greetings of “my lady” become something to look forward to rather than to roll her eyes at? When had he started to infect her mind and heart so completely that she could no longer say for certain that he was her partner and nothing more?

When had the idea of him falling in love with another girl become so detestable?

~

Something was wrong with Marinette today.

Adrien had noticed as soon as she came in that morning that something was off. It was honestly kind of hard _not_ to notice. She was walking with a slump, and her smile when she greeted Alya before class was muted. He was tempted to ask her if she was okay, but after her running away from him in the library yesterday he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Even if she was the author of the anonymous valentine, she had shown very little indication of being interested in him. Besides which, he didn't want to scare her away again. Part of him wasn't sure he could take it.

Then, just as he was preparing to leave for the day, it happened.

“Um … Adrien?”

He turned around and found himself face-to-face with Marinette, who was scuffing one pink shoe against the floor and fidgeting. A smile spread across his face that he couldn't manage to wipe off. Maybe she wasn't as scared of him as he'd thought. “Hey, Marinette. What is it?”

She ducked her head but then peeked up at him shyly. Her cheeks were as bright and red as a pair of holiday lights. “I … um … well … er … you … are—is everything okay? You … you seem upset.”

Adrien stared at her in surprise. How could she tell? Not even Nino had noticed his downcast mood. Granted, he'd been doing his best to hide it, but that just made it more astonishing that she had managed to see through his facade. He opened his mouth to say something—what, he wasn't sure—but caught himself before he could do something even more stupid than what he'd done last night. “Me? No, everything's fine,” he lied. Part of him wanted to be honest—she'd worked up the nerve to talk to him even though she was clearly terrified by the prospect, and she deserved an honest answer for her efforts—but he knew it would be cruel to tell her that he was upset because his love life was turning into a train wreck. If she had really authored the anonymous valentine, then she had a massive crush on him. Admitting to problems with a girl would break her heart, and that was something he didn't want to do.

Marinette still wore a look of concern. “Are—are you sure?” she pressed.

He took a deep breath. She looked so desperate to help. At that moment her attention was on him and him alone. And no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he liked it.

“I'm sure,” he said.

 


	3. It's Not Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t fair that she was the one whose heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

“So, kitty, have you done anything about the girl you mentioned yet?”

Chat whipped his head around to stare at Ladybug with eyes the size of saucers. “What?” He sounded startled and more than a little horrified that she was asking.

Ladybug waved a hand. “You know. The girl you told me about last week. The one who wrote you a love letter?” Part of her couldn't believe she was asking this. But Chat hadn't made mention of the girl for a week, and Ladybug was beginning to wonder if he had made some sort of progress. The thought made her heart sink every time she thought about it, to the point where she couldn't help but ask.

He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Even with his mask obscuring his face, she could see his cheeks were flushed. “… Not yet,” he admitted. “I … we don't talk much.”

“Why not?” She moved to sit down on the edge of the roof, as they usually did when they talked after patrol. Chat made no motion to join her. “She must like you an awful lot if she wrote you a love letter.” Although, she supposed, if this girl of Chat's was anything like she was around Adrien, it would be little wonder that they didn't talk much.

Chat sighed. He still hadn't come to sit with her. “I've tried talking to her, but she doesn't seem comfortable when I do. She has trouble saying much of anything.” She could hear a smile in his voice as he added, “Sort of like you said you did around that boy you like, my lady. Is this a thing with girls? Stammering and then running away?”

She twisted so that she could better meet his gaze. He _was_ smiling, she noticed, that broad grin he always gave her when he was being silly with her. “Not for everyone,” she replied, and returned his grin with one of her own. “Some girls can talk to the boy they like just fine.”

He finally came over and plopped down beside her, dropping his hands into his lap. His eyes were on the city below them, and Ladybug took the opportunity to take in all the details of his face: the way his eyes shone nearly golden green when they reflected the city lights, the way his nose turned up slightly at the end, the stray strands of blond hair that brushed across his jawline, the tiny quirk of his lips when he wasn't quite smiling. She had never allowed herself to look at him like this, like she wanted to memorize every last feature and imperfection forever. But her stomach was twisting itself into knots and her heart had sunk long ago, and something inside her whispered that she ought to do it before this other girl won his love for good.

“She reminds me of you sometimes, you know,” Chat said abruptly, pulling her from her thoughts. She tried her best to act like she hadn't just been staring at him. He gave her another playful grin. “Just little moments here and there. She has the same kindness as you.”

Ladybug propped her chin on her hand and gazed at him. Hopefully he would think her smile was sincere and enthusiastic. “But you won't do anything? Or say anything to her?” She swallowed down the bitter lump in her throat and went on, “You're a great guy, Chat. I couldn't ask for a better partner. And I'm sure that if you try it'll work out.”

His eyes had gone very wide and his mouth slack while she was speaking, and now he gave his head a little shake and covered her hand on the roof with his. “You think so? But …” He looked away again. “… You don't care, then, my lady?”

“Why would I?” She twisted her hand beneath his until she could lace their fingers together. “You're my partner. I want you to be happy.” There was a part of her, at the back of her mind, that wanted to say she cared. That she didn't want someone else to steal him away from her. She forced that part down. She loved Adrien, not Chat Noir. This shouldn't be bothering her so much. “Just try talking to her.”

Chat raised an eyebrow at her. He seemed to have recovered a bit of his usual composure now. “Look who's talking. What about you?”

She flushed. “That's not important. We're focusing on you right now.”

He smiled crookedly. “As you wish, my lady.”

It wasn't fair, she thought. Not fair at all. How could his cheeky smiles make her heart pound so fast when he wasn't even the one she liked? “So, you said she has trouble talking to you?”

“All the time,” Chat confirmed. He had begun to trace circles on the back of her hand with his thumb absently. The gentle touch set Ladybug's heart racing all over again. “I'm not sure why, though.”

“If she wrote you a love letter, she's probably just nervous,” Ladybug pointed out. Writing a love letter was a big deal, after all. It wasn't easy to put your heart out on paper. In fact, it was downright terrifying.

“I don't know why she would be nervous, though,” Chat mused. “I mean, I'd really like to be friends with her first. But every time I try to start a conversation or anything, she just seems to freak out.”

Ladybug smiled to herself. So Chat's mystery girl couldn't handle a regular conversation with her crush either. The two of them were probably more alike than Chat realized. “You'd like to be friends with her 'first'?” she echoed. “Meaning you're interested in being more than friends with her?”

Chat's face went red all the way to the tips of his ears. “I don't know,” he admitted. His thumb was still tracing absent circles on her hand. “But my lady, you—”

“What do you mean, you don't know?” she interrupted. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to say, and she was afraid to hear it. She had put up protections around her heart as soon as Chat had begun his flirtatious pursuit all those months ago; if he confessed to her now, she was scared those protections might shatter. They already felt dangerously close to breaking. “Are you interested in her or not?”

“That's the thing. I'm not sure.” He took a deep breath. “She's sweet, and I might like her … but she's not you, my lady.” He took both her hands in his now, squeezing tightly.

Ladybug's head was spinning. This wasn't fair. He couldn't do this, not now, not when she was so vulnerable to her emotions. It wasn't fair, the way he looked into her eyes with such sincerity and devotion. It wasn't fair that she was the one whose heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst. “Chat, don't.” It took every shred of willpower she had to withdraw from his touch.

“Please,” Chat whispered. His eyes were pleading. “Let me finish. I've been meaning to tell you this since Valentine's Day.”

She shook her head, looking down at the streets below them. She didn't think she could look him in the face and say no. But this was too much and too sudden for her right now.

Chat was quiet for a long time. Then he sighed and stood up. “As my lady wishes.”

“I'm sorry,” she said softly, hugging her knees to her chest.

“You don't have to apologize,” he assured her. She felt his hand ruffle her hair. “Just tell me when you're ready to hear it.”

Ladybug hid her face in her knees. “You should go.”

There was a pause.

“What?” He sounded baffled.

She lifted her head. “I said, you should go. Go see her. Does she know you're Chat Noir?”

“Of course not, my lady.”

“Then go see her as Chat.” She twisted until she could meet his gaze again. “If you're going to decide whether or not you like her, you might as well see if she can accept both sides of you.” This was advice, she told herself, not an excuse to send him away. Just harmless advice. If she got some time to herself as a result, it was a side benefit.

Chat's face split into a slow grin that was one part gratitude and two parts sad acceptance. “She's met me as Chat Noir before, just once,” he informed her.

“And?”

“I'm not sure what she thinks of me.”

“Then go see her.” She stood up and ushered him across the roof with her hands. “Go on, kitty. Enough 'I'm not sure's. It's time to decide for real.”

His smile quirked up on one side into his familiar smirk. “If you insist.” Before she could stop him, he took her hand and kissed it. “Until tomorrow night, my lady.”

Ladybug watched him leave, and wished her heart would stop twisting into jealous knots. Then she turned around to start on her way home.

~

“Ugh …”

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki hovered over her worriedly as she flopped into bed.

Marinette managed a tiny smile for her kwami. “I'm fine,” she promised. “Everything's just messed up in my head right now.”

“Is it because of what happened with Chat Noir tonight?” Tikki guessed.

Marinette's face flushed. “No,” she said, a little too rushed to sound convincing.

Tikki giggled. “Marinette …”

She sighed. “Okay, maybe. Kind of. Yes.” She rolled over onto her stomach and dropped her head onto her pillow. “I don't get it. Why is he so worried about how I feel about it? It's not like I care if he likes some other girl.” The words felt like a lie, though.

Tikki didn't look convinced. “He really cares about you, Marinette,” she pointed out, plopping down atop Marinette's head and giving her an affectionate pat. “He probably just wants to make sure he won't do anything he'll regret later.”

“But that's—” Marinette started, and was interrupted by something tapping at her window. Confused, she looked over to see what it was that was making the noise.

She nearly screamed.

Chat Noir was outside her window, and was gesturing for her to meet him on her balcony.

 


	4. One Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re in love with a picture, Princess. Fairy tale princes like that don’t exist.”

This wasn't happening.

Oh, God, this couldn't be happening.

“Hey, Princess,” Chat greeted Marinette as she arrived in a breathless panic on the terrace. He was leaning back against the railing in what was clearly meant to be a seductive pose. Personally Marinette thought it just made him look like the dork he was.

“What are you doing here?” she sputtered. “It's the middle of the night!”

He grinned. “So I noticed.”

“That's not funny! Why are you here? Did you follow me home or something?” _Please_ , she prayed to whatever divine being might be listening, _don't let him know I'm Ladybug. Please don't let him have followed me home._

Chat blinked at her, clearly puzzled. “No. What gave you that impression?” He slinked away from the railing to come closer to her. “I just dropped by to say hello.”

Despite her resolve to stand her ground, she found herself backing up towards the wall. “Why?”

“A little ladybug told me I ought to.”

“A little …” she started skeptically, and then realized what he meant. “Oh.” Fate had a cruel sense of humor. Marinette had to fight to keep her expression neutral. “And what … what reason did Ladybug have for sending you?”

Chat's face reddened. “That's not important,” he replied. He took another step towards her. Marinette forced herself to remain where she was. “And I'm not just here because Ladybug told me to come. I have my own reason for being here.”

“Which is?” Marinette asked, curious despite herself. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, and she wished he wasn't able to mess with her emotions like this. Hadn't he already played with her heart enough during patrol? Of course, he had no idea he was talking to Ladybug right now. No idea at all.

“You interest me, Princess.” His eyes were gentle and sincere, his playful mood vanishing in an instant. One hand came up to touch her cheek. “I'd like to get to know you better.”

It took every ounce of Marinette's self-control not to lean into the cool touch of his hand. “We've only really talked once. How can I possibly interest you?”

Chat shrugged his shoulders and gave her a teasing grin. “Let's just say we know each other better than you think we do.”

Only then did Marinette remember what he had said during patrol: The girl he was interested in didn't know he was Chat Noir. Meaning Chat must be someone she knew, and probably someone she knew well. Before she could stop herself, she was already reaching up to skim her fingers across the bottom of his mask. “Do I know you without the mask on?”

His grin broadened. “Maybe.” He covered her hand with his own. “But I'm afraid that's confidential information, Princess.”

Marinette bit her lip. She knew why he wouldn't tell her, of course. She had been the one who had made the rule that neither of them should reveal their identities to anyone. Things were safer that way. There was less chance of harm befalling the people they cared about. But for the first time in her life, she was wishing she had never invented that rule. And she was mad at herself for wishing it. This was _Chat_ , for God's sake. He was her _partner_. Why should it matter who was underneath the mask? “I understand. The whole secret identity thing, right?”

He was still smiling that unfairly adorable smile at her. “You know your superhero rules, Princess.”

“Doesn't everyone?” She slipped her hand out from beneath his and withdrew towards the stairs that led back down to her room. “Now if you'll excuse me, it's getting late and I'd like to go back inside.”

Chat raised an eyebrow. “And you're not going to invite me in? How cold. I was just starting to think we were hitting it off.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and looked away before he could see her face flush. “Oh, fine. But only for a few minutes. I have school in the morning, you know.”

“So do I, Princess,” Chat informed her as she started down the steps.

Marinette poked her head back up through the trapdoor to look at him quizzically. “What happened to your superhero rules?”

He grinned devilishly. “I can't tell you who I am outright, but there's no rule against giving you hints.”

She rolled her eyes again and resumed her descent. Leave it to Chat Noir to take advantage of the loopholes in her rules. She made a shooing gesture with one hand as she went down; she wasn't sure if Tikki was out in plain sight or not and wanted to make sure the kwami hid before Chat came in. “Just make sure you're quiet. My parents are sleeping and I don't want you waking them up.”

“I'll be quiet as a mouse, Princess,” Chat promised as he followed her down into her room. Once she had moved away from the steps, he jumped the last five to the floor. His landing made almost no sound, and she had to give him points for stealth. “Bit dark in here, isn't it?”

Marinette looked at him skeptically. “Can't cats see in the dark?”

“I meant dark for you,” he replied without missing a beat. “Lovely wall décor, by the way. Celebrity crush of yours?”

Marinette's cheeks flooded with searing heat as she realized he could see the photos of Adrien that were plastered all over her walls. The knowledge that she probably knew Chat without the mask went from pleasing to mortifying in an instant. “That's—it's none of your business! So what if I have some pictures up? Lots of girls like Adrien, you know!”

She heard more than saw him plop down in her swivel chair—it was too dark for her to see much. “Do they really like him, though? Or just the idea of him?”

“Him, of course!” Marinette fumbled her way through the dark, searching for her lightswitch.

“I wonder about that,” Chat mused in a voice that could only be described as a purr.

Her fingers finally found the switch, and she gladly flicked the lights on. She turned to face him again and planted her hands on her hips. “Why is that so hard to believe? Not only is he incredibly handsome, he's also the smartest in our class at school, he does fencing _and_ piano, _and_ he speaks Chinese. And on top of all that, he's patient and kind to everybody, even Chloé. What sane girl _wouldn't_ like a boy like that?”

Chat didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked almost disappointed in her. “Like I said, they just like the idea of him.”

“And what makes you say that, hm?” she challenged.

He stood up, an odd glint in his catlike eyes. “Can you tell me one thing about this Adrien of yours that would make him actually sound human instead of like some kind of wonderboy robot?”

“I …”

Chat shook his head with what was obviously a sound of disgust. “I didn't think so. You're in love with a picture, Princess. Fairy tale princes like that don't exist.” He reached out and plucked one of the photos from her wall. “Best you forget about him before you get hurt.”

Marinette felt the sting of tears and willed herself not to cry. How could he say such terrible things? “As if you know the first thing about Adrien either!” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice low. It was hard to remember not to wake her parents when she wanted so badly to explode at the pretentious boy in front of her.

The glint in his eyes had begun to burn. “I promise you, Princess, I know a lot more about Adrien Agreste than you do. And if you keep up this idol worship of yours then you're only going to get let down in the future.”

She felt her lip begin to quiver, and bit down to keep him from seeing. “It's not idol worship.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He shook his head again and turned to leave. He had nearly made it back to the steps when Marinette thought of something that might win her the argument.

“He's lonely.”

Chat halted in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to look at her over his shoulder. “What?”

Marinette swallowed nervously. “I said, he's lonely. His father is really strict, and he doesn't get to do much with his friends outside of school. I … I knitted him a scarf. For his birthday this year. But I … well, I _thought_ I signed the package, but … he thought it was from his father. He looked so happy, I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Especially after he mentioned that his father usually forgets about his birthday. And, well, who wouldn't feel lonely if their father didn't even care enough to remember their birthday?”

Chat crossed the room back over to her in two long strides, gaping at her with surprise. “ _You_ knitted that scarf?” There was a pause before he clarified, “The one he was wearing the day after his birthday, I mean?”

Marinette stared at him and wondered how he knew about the scarf, and then recalled that he'd implied they knew one another. If he went to her school, he would have seen Adrien wearing it. “Yes.” Seeing him open his mouth to say something and fearing another bout of criticism, she added in a rush, “Anyway, I think he feels really alone, especially when he's at home, because there's such an absence of warmth in his relationship with his father. And most people don't seem to notice he's lonely, which just makes it worse.”

Chat Noir said nothing, and she peeked up at his face nervously. Had she said the right thing? He looked shell-shocked. “Um … Chat?”

He shook his head as if pulling himself out of a daze. “I guess you know him better than I thought you did,” he admitted.

Marinette couldn't help the smug smirk that tugged its way onto her lips. “I told you it wasn't idol worship.”

“So you did, Princess.” Chat was looking her over with renewed interest, his gaze lingering on the features of her face. It was a moment before either of them said anything else, a long moment that was charged with unspoken emotions.

“I suppose with you being so interested in Adrien, there's no chance for me?” Chat asked finally.

She inhaled sharply, feeling his words like a harsh blow. Oh, if only he knew the things his proximity was doing to her heart right now, or how bothered she had been by the idea of him liking someone other than her. “You never asked for a chance.”

“I'm asking right now.” He was beginning to lean in towards her, too close to be friendly but not quite close enough to be intimate.

“What about Ladybug?”

There was a sudden, intense flash of pain in his eyes. “My lady, she … she was the one who told me I should come here,” he mumbled. “I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm better off with someone else. And, well, if she's decided for certain that I'm no good for her …”

That was the last straw for Marinette. “Hold up, kitty cat. When did she ever say _that?_ Are you sure you're not just getting mopey because she won't have a relationship with you?” She withdrew from him to sit on her desk chair, waving her hands around illustratively in her frustration. “I've seen you guys when they cover you on the news, okay? Ladybug definitely does _not_ think you're no good for her. She never looks at you with anything but respect and trust. We—you're _partners_ , for heaven's sake. Give her a little credit. What's so wrong with her just wanting to keep things professional?”

Chat laughed. “You sound like my lady, Princess.”

Marinette smiled— _if only you knew—_ and folded her hands together neatly on her lap. “Do I?”

“But I don't want to just keep things professional,” Chat went on.

_Oh._

_Oh, dear God._

“I love her.”

Marinette couldn't help the blush that crept up into her cheeks, or the breath that left her in a rush. There was no trace of uncertainty or hesitation on Chat's face, only pure love and adoration. And just like that, she could feel the barriers around her heart starting to fall. True, he had no way of knowing that he had just confessed his love to Ladybug, but still. He _meant_ it. There was none of the shyness that had been there when he'd tried to confess during patrol, no fear of rejection. This was his heart laid bare, and it was beautiful.

The pause between them this time lasted a good minute or two before she was able to regain her composure and pretend to be miffed. “If you love her so much, then why are you here and asking for a chance with me?”

Chat wilted. “I mentioned having an interest in you, and she's told me more than once now that I should see you. I'm pretty sure that's her way of saying she's not interested.” He looked at her sadly. “So, if … if there's no chance for me with my lady, I'm willing to do my best to move on.”

Marinette pursed her lips and pretended to ponder. “In other words, I'm your backup plan,” she translated.

“Yes—no!” His face turned faintly pink beneath his mask. “That's not … I really am interested in you. You're not just some backup in case things with Ladybug don't work out. I just—ugh, this is so messed up. I sound so fickle.” He plopped down across from her on her lounge chair, his head in his hands.

“So you're in love with Ladybug, but you like me, too,” she said slowly. Chat's head bobbed up and down in his hands. “And you feel like you should be able to pick one or the other?” Another bob.

Marinette leaned back in her chair. She hated to admit it, but her situation wasn't too different from his. This leather-clad dork had somehow managed to worm his way into her heart, occupying space that had once belonged only to Adrien, and she wasn't sure anymore exactly which one of them her heart belonged to. The decision should have been easy—a couple of weeks ago, she would have chosen Adrien without hesitation. But now …

She took a deep breath. This was probably a stupid decision, one she would end up regretting. But it was better than living with these “what if”s for the rest of her life. “Then let me help you decide.”

He lifted his head from his hands to look at her in confusion as she stood up and approached him. “What do you …”

Marinette steeled herself for what she was about to do, and then leaned down to press a single tentative kiss to his lips.

Chat froze for a second. She couldn't blame him. This was rather out of the blue, after all.

And then he kissed her back.

 _Oh, God, what am I doing?_ She pushed the question to the back of her head as Chat pulled her closer, fisting his hands in the fabric of her jacket. Part of her couldn't believe this was happening—this was Chat, her partner, her steadfast companion, nothing at all like sweet, kindhearted Adrien—and yet it felt _right_. She allowed him to tug her down until their faces were level with one another, and let him kiss her again and again. Chat murmured her name, pressing little kisses all across her face: one to the corner of her lips, another for each cheek, one on the tip of her nose. His hands slid up to tangle in her hair, and she had to clutch at his shoulders or else risk letting her knees give out beneath her. His lips returned to hers, capturing her in another kiss, and he held her tighter, tighter, until their bodies were flush against each other and Marinette forgot how to breathe.

Chat was the first to pull away, his eyes wild and his face red. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I should go, Princess. It's late, and we _do_ both have school in the morning.”

Marinette ducked her head in embarrassment but leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

He dipped down to kiss her one final time. “I'll be back to visit you soon, I promise,” he whispered. Then he stood and disappeared up the steps to her terrace.

The moment he was gone, Marinette let out the breath she had been holding and flopped down across the seat he had just vacated. Tikki floated up out of her hiding place beneath. “What am I doing, Tikki?”

“You could always just tell him that you're Ladybug,” Tikki pointed out reasonably. Marinette sat back up, too flustered and agitated to stay lying down.

“But if I do that, he might think I'm a liar! It's better if he doesn't know. I just …” She bit her lip. “… He keeps hinting that I know him without the mask. And he knows that I like Adrien. What am I going to do if he says something? I don't even know for sure who he is, which means I can't ask him not to say anything!”

Tikki thought for a minute. Then her face lit up. “Marinette, the love letter!”

“Huh?”

“Remember? Chat Noir said during patrol that the girl he liked wrote him a love letter! That means you're the one who wrote the letter!”

“But I haven't sent a love letter to any—” Marinette started, and then cut herself off as a terrible realization began to dawn on her.

She had written a love letter to Adrien on Valentine's Day.

_Oh, God._

Adrien was Chat Noir?!

 


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He still loved Ladybug, but Marinette had captured his heart in a completely different way.

“You're humming,” Plagg observed as Adrien got ready for school.

Adrien grinned at his kwami. “I have a feeling it's going to be a good day today, Plagg,” he replied. He finished tugging on his shirt and went to grab his bag before heading down for breakfast.

“It's because of that girl you went to see last night, wasn't it?” Plagg guessed.

Adrien felt a rush of heat rise to flood his face. “Shouldn't you be hiding in my bag right now? Natalie might see you.”

“So it _is_ because of—” Plagg's triumphant gloating was cut off as Adrien swept him into his bag. There was a halfhearted struggle when Adrien closed the bag on him, and then Plagg seemed to resign himself to being trapped inside and Adrien felt him settle on the bottom. He leaned back against the wall and waited for the blush in his cheeks to subside.

It was true that his good mood was thanks to Marinette. As much as it had hurt when Ladybug had sent him away, he was glad she had. He might never have gone to visit Marinette otherwise. Adrien grinned, recalling the stunned look on her face when he'd knocked on her window. He'd probably given her a heart attack showing up like that out of nowhere. It wasn't every day that Chat Noir made an appearance at a girl's window, after all. She hadn't seemed too happy about him visiting at first, either, if her barrage of questions about what he was doing at her house was anything to judge by. But she had still allowed him to come inside, and hadn't asked him even once to leave. Not even when he had teased her about the photos of him that she had taped all over her wall. Adrien smothered the smirk that spread across his face at the memory. God, she had looked so _cute_ when she was flustered. It made him want to tease her again, to see what other sorts of reactions he might be able to coax out of her as Chat.

What had contributed most to his current good mood, however, was the chance that someone might finally love him for who he really was and not for who he was forced to pretend to be. Seeing the photos taped up, he had been afraid that her crush on him might turn out to be a form of celebrity worship. But as soon as he had proposed the idea, she had balked and risen to challenge him. Though she might put his talents on a pedestal, she had acknowledged that he wasn't perfect. And somehow she had noticed the loneliness he always did his best to hide. It had taken every ounce of self-control that he possessed not to smother her in his arms right then and there—if he had, she would have certainly figured out who he was. All the excuses in the world would have served him no good.

And then she had kissed him— _she_ had kissed _him—_ even though in that moment he was Chat Noir and not Adrien Agreste. He was certain she wouldn't have done such a thing if she weren't at least interested in Chat Noir. He couldn't even bring himself to be disappointed that she claimed to like him and then kissed someone she thought was another person entirely. She liked him as Chat Noir, too, and that was better than any crush, no matter how strong, she might have on who he was as the son of Gabriel Agreste. He'd found himself kissing her back without any conscious decision to do so. He'd realized moments later that he _liked_ kissing her.

He still loved Ladybug, of course—his feelings for her couldn't fade in one night no matter how much he had enjoyed kissing Marinette. But the thought of falling in love with someone else wasn't quite as repugnant as it once had been. Not when that someone else was Marinette.

When he arrived at school, Adrien immediately began scouting for her. Now that he knew for sure how she felt, he wanted to get closer to her. Even if that meant giving up on Ladybug—who had suggested most of this in the first place anyway. Marinette, however, was nowhere to be seen. Adrien sighed and went into the classroom.

“Morning, dude,” Nino greeted him with a smile. He did a double take as he took in Adrien's appearance. “Whoa, what happened? You look wiped.”

“I … didn't get much sleep,” Adrien explained. It was mostly true, after all, and revealing that he had been with Marinette last night was out of the question. He set his bag down beside the desk and sat down.

“Long night?” Nino guessed.

Adrien grinned. “Kind of. Hey, have you seen Marinette today?”

“Marinette?” Nino blinked in surprise. “No, I haven't. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. “Just curious.”

Alya leaned forward over the desk behind them. “You're looking for Marinette?” She looked elated. “Did you want to talk to her about something?”

“I was just curious,” he repeated. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to how much he wanted to see Marinette.

“Oh.” Alya sat back down in her seat with a disappointed pout. Adrien had just turned around to face the front again when the door of the classroom flew open and Marinette scrambled in. The bell signaling the start of class rang a moment later.

“Girl, where were you?” he heard Alya whisper to her as Miss Bustier started roll call.

“I accidentally slept through my alarm,” came the sheepish reply.

“Up late again?” Alya guessed.

“I was doing homework,” Marinette mumbled.

Adrien stifled a laugh. So Chat Noir was homework now, was he?

“Adrien was asking about you,” Alya informed her.

“What?” Marinette squeaked. Adrien had to resist the urge to look back and peek at her face. “He was asking for _me?_ Why?”

“Don't know. Ask him after class.”

Adrien smiled to himself. It looked like he would get a chance to talk to her today after all.

~

By the end of the day, Adrien was horribly confused. He had tried to talk to Marinette several times, in between classes, and each time she had dashed off with half-baked excuses. It went beyond shyness. She had more or less confirmed last night that she had a crush on him—so why wouldn't she speak to him? Was she scared of talking to him? Why? He didn't think he had given her reason to be afraid.

On his way out the door, he caught sight of her talking to Alya. Making a split-second decision, he switched directions and headed over to where they were standing. His photo shoot didn't start for another half hour. The car could wait a few minutes. “Hey, Marinette.”

Marinette let out a shriek and jumped a good foot or so in the air, and then whirled around to face him. There was an awkward smile pasted on her face, not so much nervous as forced. “Adrien! H-hi! I … um …”

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Could I … talk to you?” Her face became a mask of panic. “Just for a minute,” he assured her. “I promise.”

Marinette looked cornered, and Adrien wondered if this had been a bad idea. “I … er … that is …”

“Of course!” Alya jumped in. She gave Marinette a push in Adrien's direction. “She would love to talk to you!”

“Alya!” Marinette shot a despairing look at her friend, but Alya was already hurrying away.

Again, Adrien had to wonder if this was a bad idea. The poor girl looked like she would rather be anywhere than here talking to him. “So …”

Before he could get so much as another word out, Marinette was already stuttering another excuse. “That girl! I don't know what's her into gotten—I mean, what's gotten her into—I mean—I have to go, I promised my parents I'd help out in the bakery today after school and I'm already running late and—yep, gotta go!” She began edging away from him as she spoke.

His hand shot out instinctively to grab her wrist. “No, wait. Please.”

Marinette twisted out of his hold. “I'm sorry, Adrien, I really have to go.” She edged further away and, as soon as she was out of arm's reach, took off running.

Adrien watched her go and wondered if he had done something wrong. She was definitely avoiding him. But why?

~

If he had hoped that things with Ladybug might go better than they had with Marinette, he was sorely mistaken. Beyond a “hello” at the start of patrol and a “good night” at the end, she didn't say a single word to him. She didn't even ask if he had visited Marinette last night like she had told him to. When she turned to leave for the night, he reached out for her hand without thinking. “My lady, wait.”

Ladybug stopped and looked at him inquiringly over her shoulder. “What is it?”

“I just … are you avoiding me?” He could hear the raw hurt in his own voice and hated it. God, he sounded like a whiny kid! “You've been really quiet tonight, and I … it's not like you. Is everything okay?”

Mercifully, rather than pull away like Marinette had, Ladybug turned back around to face him and laced her fingers with his. “Everything's fine,” she promised. “I'm just a little—I've been a little out of it today. I didn't mean to give you the cold shoulder.”

Chat swallowed. “I … visited the girl I told you about. Last night.”

He felt her fingers squeeze his hand. “And?” Her voice had an odd edge to it now, carefully neutral.

His throat had never felt dryer, and he had never imagined being so terrified of confiding in the girl he adored. “She … she kissed me,” he admitted in a tiny voice. His face flushed at the memory—Marinette kissing him, him kissing her _back_ , the feel of her in his arms, the sweet taste of her lips. Oh, how he wished she wouldn't have kissed him. He might have been able to let his interest in her fade then. But now there was no escaping it; his feelings for her were growing even as he willed them away. He still loved Ladybug, but Marinette had captured his heart in a completely different way. She was attainable. She saw him for who he was, and still she accepted him wholly. And if there was one thing Chat Noir craved, one thing Adrien Agreste craved, it was acceptance.

Ladybug was quiet for a minute. Chat waited apprehensively for her to speak.

“Do you love her?” Ladybug's voice still had that peculiar edge to it, that bizarre attempt at a neutral tone that tried to hide some kind of emotion he couldn't identify.

He bit his lip. This was it. There was no going back from this. He had to give up one or the other. He either had to give up Marinette, who accepted all of him without question, or he had to give up Ladybug, who was the most incredible girl he had ever met and meant more to him than his own life.

This decision would either fix or ruin everything.

“Yes.”

 


	6. Under the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think you deserve to know who’s sneaking into your room to kiss you senseless.”

“Do you think he'll come tonight, Tikki?”

“You mean Chat?” Tikki clarified.

Marinette sighed dreamily and peeked out her window for the hundredth time since she had gotten home from patrol. When Chat had said he loved her as Marinette, she'd had to exercise all of her self-control to keep from hugging and kissing him right then and there. It felt too good to be true—after all, who would have thought Adrien Agreste would ever fall in love with clumsy, shy Marinette? She was almost positive that Chat had to be Adrien. There was simply no other way for his love letter story to make sense.

At first, the realization had been horrifying. She was still a little shocked, if she was being honest with herself. Adrien and Chat Noir were nothing alike. As different as night and day. She'd avoided Adrien at school, too confused and embarrassed to face him. But the more she had thought about it, particularly during patrol, the more it began to make sense. There were little similarities here and there, in the way he carried himself and in the spread of his smile. Adrien had Chat's boldness when seeking her out at school today; Chat had Adrien's reservedness when admitting his feelings for her tonight. Marinette was sure that if she paid enough attention, she could catch even more of the puzzle pieces she had somehow overlooked this entire time.

That was assuming he would still come to visit her, of course.

Marinette hoped he would—after he had confessed, she had more or less insisted that he visit his “mystery girl” again. But it was getting late and there was still no sign of him. She would have to give up her vigil soon.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, floating over and poking her cheek to get her attention. “It's almost one in the morning. You need to go to bed. There's always tomorrow.”

She pouted but moved towards her bed. “Oh, all right.” Just then, she heard a tap at the window, and she immediately dashed back over to throw it open. Tikki sighed but hid herself without being asked.

“Good evening, Princess,” Chat greeted Marinette with a playful grin once the window was opened. “I hope I'm not disturbing you by visiting.”

“Of course not,” she insisted. She moved aside to allow him in. “I was kind of hoping you'd be back tonight.”

His grin broadened. “As if anything was going to keep me away.”

His words sent a pleasant shiver through her. He had wanted to see her that badly? For the first time, she actually hoped that Chat Noir would turn out to be Adrien. It was the only thing that could possibly make this any better.

Chat continued. “So, on a side note, I hear my new name is Homework now.”

Marinette blinked in confusion. “What?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in towards him with a smirk. “You told your friend Alya today that you stayed up late 'doing homework' last night.”

Her face flooded with heat. If she'd needed any further confirmation of Chat's identity, this was it on a silver platter. Nobody except Adrien and Nino could possibly have overheard her conversation with Alya. “That's—I couldn't tell her I was with you last night, you know!”

Chat laughed. “Well, you _could_ have, but it would have started quite the rumor,” he pointed out. “But does this mean you'll be calling me Homework from now on, or not?”

“Not,” Marinette answered promptly. Her face was burning all the way to the tips of her ears. “I'd rather call you by your name.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “My alias or my real name?”

“Your alias.” She fixed her gaze on the floor and wished the blush would die out of her cheeks. She had to look ridiculous with her face bright red like this. “I don't know your real name.” That was mostly a lie, of course. She was more or less certain at this point that she knew who he was. But he couldn't know that.

“I could tell you if you want me to, Princess,” Chat offered. He slid a finger under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. “I think you deserve to know who's sneaking into your room to kiss you senseless.”

Marinette gaped at him. The heat that had finally begun to fade from her face now surged back in full force. “What?”

“I said, 'I think you deserve to know—'”

“I heard you,” she interrupted. “But—kiss me _senseless?_ What do you mean?”

“Do you want a demonstration?” He leaned in towards her until their lips were only inches apart. “I'd be happy to give you one.”

The look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Marinette found herself melting into his touch almost without thinking. “A demonstration would be appreciated,” she murmured.

He was so close now that she could feel the stir of his breath. “I had a feeling you might say that,” he admitted, and then his lips were on hers.

It was incredible, Marinette, thought, how such a small form of contact could be so powerful. His touch made her skin tingle in little electric bursts. All of a sudden it didn't seem to matter anymore whether Chat Noir was Adrien or someone else. He was kissing her, and she loved it. She slanted her head for him to deepen the kiss and wound her fingers up into his hair.

Against her lips, she felt Chat smile, and he drew her in closer as he kissed her again and again, his hands settling at her waist. The kisses slowly grew hungrier, less playful. Chat's hands slid down, his thumbs rubbing circles across the top of her hips. At some point they had backed up towards the wall; Marinette could feel her back being pressed against it and didn't care.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Chat said softly, and made a trail of kisses down to her throat. Not expecting the warmth of his lips on her neck, Marinette felt a shiver go through her.

“Don't stop,” she whispered. Chat paused in his kisses for a moment—did her consent surprise him?—but then he hummed with pleasure and pressed another kiss to the hollow of her throat.

“I can feel your heartbeat, Princess,” he observed, his voice an amused purr.

She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to remember how to breathe properly. It was hard when he was stealing her breath away. “What about it?”

He hummed again. “It's going a million miles an hour.” He lifted his face from her neck and kissed the corner of her lips. “I'm glad I'm not the only one who's going crazy here.”

Marinette gave him a puzzled look. He seemed to understand before she could even ask, taking her hand in his and pressing it over his heart. His pulse hammered beneath her fingers. A slow smile spread across her face. “Are you nervous too, kitty?” she teased.

Chat's face reddened. “Maybe,” he mumbled, looking away in obvious embarrassment.

 _God_ , was he being adorable. Marinette giggled. “Chat Noir, Parisian superhero, nervous about a few kisses? What would Ladybug say?”

Chat's eyes snapped back to hers. “I don't want to talk about Ladybug right now,” he said.

“But you said you loved her, last night.”

“And I told her that I love you tonight.” He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze a mix between the remnants of embarrassment and new tenderness. “Please. I don't want to talk about her right now, Marinette.”

“You love me?” She had heard it earlier as Ladybug, but it still set her heart racing all over again.

“I do.”

“Why me?” Maybe it was a stupid question. He might not be comfortable with answering, or he might think she didn't believe him. But she still wanted to know what had made him choose Marinette over Ladybug. “How can I possibly compare with Ladybug?”

He jerked in surprise. “What kind of question is that?”

“I just want to know,” she insisted.

Chat gave her a skeptical look. “I could ask you the same question, you know. Why choose me over your precious Adrien?” He gestured back towards her wall, which was still plastered with Adrien's photos.

Marinette swallowed and ducked her head. How could she explain without saying that she thought Chat _was_ Adrien, and without making it seem like he was just a substitute for Adrien? She thought back to before she had made the connection between Chat's love letter and the valentine she had written to Adrien. What had made her decide to kiss Chat? “I don't know,” she admitted.

“You don't know,” Chat repeated. He sounded—disappointed? defeated? She couldn't tell.

“I don't know,” she confirmed. Gathering her nerves, she lifted her face to meet his gaze. “I don't know why I chose you. I don't know why I'm choosing you right now. But I can't pretend I don't have feelings for you, Chat. I love—I love you,” she finished in a whisper. This was it. The time for denial was over. Whether Chat was Adrien or someone else, she had chosen to commit now. There was no turning back. She looked away again, too nervous to see his reaction.

There was stunned silence from Chat for all of a split second, and then he enveloped her in his arms with a giddy laugh, holding her tight as if he would never let go. This was a touch she recognized, one that was achingly familiar. This was the touch of Chat protecting his lady. “Chat?”

“Don't compare yourself to Ladybug,” Chat said, and Marinette could hear the smile in his voice. “No, you're not like her. But Marinette, you're brave and confident and kind in your own way, and I love you for it. That's got to count for something.”

“It does,” she assured him. She returned his embrace, standing on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. They stayed there like that, simply standing and holding one another, for a long time. Then, from the corner of her eye, Marinette caught sight of the time on her clock and grimaced. It was nearly one thirty. While she didn't want this to end, she knew she was already going to be exhausted for school tomorrow. Like it or not, it was time to send him on his way. “You should go.”

“Go?” Chat gave her a baffled look. “Why?”

“Because it's almost one thirty in the morning and I have school at eight thirty. And so do you.” She let her arms drop, and gently stepped out of his embrace. “We can't stay up like this all night.”

He frowned in disappointment but started towards the window. “Do you want to know who I am before I go?”

“What about your superhero rules?”

He perched on the windowsill. “I'll make an exception for my princess. If you want me to tell you, that is.”

 _His princess?_ The nickname echoed another, more familiar one. Marinette blushed, shaking her head. “I have a better idea.” This was a massive gamble; Chat would either be ecstatic or never want to have anything to do with her ever again. “You know the old art room at school? The one they don't use anymore?”

He nodded.

Oh, God, please let this go well. “Meet me there after school. But not as Chat Noir. As yourself.”

Chat looked confused. “Why can't I just show you now?”

“I—because—there's something I need to tell you, and if I tell you now then we're going to be here all night, and I need to go to bed so I can stay awake in school tomorrow.” She gave him the most pleading look she could manage. “Please. It's just a little while longer.”

He sighed. “I can't say no to you, Princess. I'll wait.” He gestured for her to come closer. When she did, he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Until tomorrow, then. Sweet dreams, Marinette.” With that, he turned and left as quickly as he'd come.

Tikki came out of hiding and approached Marinette curiously. “What are you going to tell him?”

Marinette bit her bottom lip, hoping she wasn't making a mistake. “I'm going to meet him as Ladybug.”

 


	7. No More Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could her partner, her friend, the boy who said he loved her, laugh at her like this?

School had never dragged on for an eternity more than it did today. Marinette fidgeted in her seat to the point that it attracted stares from her classmates. Alya had to lean over at one point to ask her to stop because she was jostling their desk. She apologized and tried to sit still, but found herself fidgeting again only a few minutes later. The clock hands traveled agonizingly slow. And when she wasn't peeking at the clock, she was stealing anxious glances at Adrien. Would he turn out to be Chat Noir after all?

Why had she decided to put this off until after school instead of just getting it out of the way last night?

Finally, after what felt like the longest day of Marinette's life, classes ended for the day. She threw her pencil and notebooks into her bag hurriedly. If Chat Noir got to their meeting spot before she did, she wouldn't be able to surprise him the way she wanted to. “See you tomorrow, Alya,” she said, jumping to her feet as soon as her bag was shut.

Alya gave her a perplexed but devious grin. “What's up with you today? Is there some top-secret date or something you're in a hurry for?”

Marinette fought to keep a neutral expression on her face. Alya's guess was closer to the truth than she realized. “I'll call later and explain, I promise. But I really have to go now. I'm gonna be late.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and wished Alya wouldn't be quite so inquisitive about everything.

Alya made a shooing motion at her with her hand. “Go on, then,” she urged. “But I want every last detail when you call, got it?”

“Got it, thanks Alya, bye!” Marinette scrambled out of the room without another word and made her way down the hall to the old art room. It was more of an extra storage closet than anything else now, and was the place that she and Chat were least likely to be interrupted. It was also a perfect place to hide if she was going to transform into Ladybug. As soon as she was in the room and had the door shut, she opened her bag to allow Tikki out.

Tikki looked just as antsy as Marinette felt. “Are you sure you want to do this, Marinette? You don't have to tell him.”

Marinette let out a slow breath and tried to calm her racing heart. “He chose _me_. Not Ladybug. _Me_ ,” she explained. The thought still made her a little giddy. “I think it was a hard decision for him to make. He …” Memories flashed through her mind, memories of kisses on the back of her hand and dopey grins and tight embraces and adoring green eyes. “He really loves Ladybug,” she finished softly. “He deserves to know.”

Yes. He deserved to know. If she thought about it hard enough, he had deserved to know for a long time. But she had avoided telling him, scared that somehow Marinette wouldn't be good enough, that he would be disillusioned if he learned the truth. Part of her was still a little scared. She had to tell him, though. She offered Tikki a weak smile. “Besides, it's only fair. If he's going to tell me who he is, I might as well do the same for him.”

“Oh, Marinette.” Tikki floated up to nuzzle Marinette's cheek comfortingly. “Don't be so nervous. It'll be okay. I'm sure of it.” She dropped down and sat on Marinette's shoulder just beneath her Miraculous. “Now hurry! Before Chat Noir gets here!”

Marinette took one final deep breath. _Here goes nothing._ “Tikki, spots on.”

Her transformation had just barely finished when the doorknob began to turn. Marinette scrambled to hide herself before the door opened. She caught a glimpse of blond hair as she hid and prayed she had been right.

The door clicked shut again. “Marinette?” Chat called. He sounded surprisingly nervous compared to his usual bravado. “Marinette, are you in here?”

“Looks like you got stood up,” an unfamiliar voice chuckled.

There was a pause. “Marinette would never do that.”

 _So what was that hesitation about just now?_ Time for Ladybug to make her entrance. She peeked around the stack of boxes she had hidden behind to see who he was. Better to brace herself now, before she stepped out and revealed herself.

Adrien was standing just inside the door, looking anxious and a little disappointed. Marinette bit back the strangled noise of delight that wanted to escape her. She'd been right! Adrien _was_ Chat Noir! A little black thing was floating by his head—his kwami?

The little black thing spoke. “Let's just go. I'm getting hungry.”

“No,” Adrien insisted. “Give her five more minutes. She'll come.”

 _Please, God, don't let me make a fool of myself_. Marinette tucked her nervousness away behind Ladybug's confidence and stepped out where Adrien could see her. “Looking for somebody?” she asked.

_Okay, I got a sentence out. Off to a good start._

Adrien jumped, obviously taken by surprise. The black thing zipped into hiding before she could get a good look at it. “My—Ladybug? What are you doing here?” He glanced around. “There's not an akuma somewhere, is there?”

He didn't recognize her, then. She had hoped that showing up at their rendezvous spot as Ladybug would be enough for him to put two and two together. She would have no such luck, apparently. Ladybug perched herself atop another stack of boxes and smiled at him. “No akuma,” she assured him. “I'm here to meet someone.”

“Oh.” His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Couldn't he tell she was referring to him? Now she was more determined than ever to get him to figure it out.

“I think you know him,” Ladybug went on. “Blond hair, green eyes, about your height, makes terrible puns at every opportunity?”

Adrien stiffened and stared at her with hope in his eyes. “You're looking for Chat Noir?”

“Sort of.” Ladybug swung her legs back and forth and wondered why it was so much fun hinting at the truth like this. As Marinette, she would have shriveled up in embarrassment at the way she was toying with him. She knew she ought to just get it over and done with, but it was _so_ tempting to see how long it took for him to realize what was going on. She'd never seen Adrien act this way before, and it was adorable. “And who are you meeting, handsome boy?”

His face went a shade of red that nearly matched the color of Ladybug's outfit. “I … erm … Marinette. She's a … classmate of mine. She asked me to … to meet her here after class.”

Ladybug pretended to think. “The name sounds familiar … Oh, that's right. That's the girl I asked Chat Noir to protect when the Evillustrator was on the loose.”

Adrien perked up a little more. “Yes, that's her. Have you seen her?”

She slid off her perch atop the boxes and approached him. “You mean today? Yes.”

“Where was she?”

Ladybug gestured around the room vaguely. “Somewhere in here.”

He took her by the shoulders, his grip light as if he were afraid to touch her. “Did she leave? Where did she go? Please, my—Ladybug, I need to know.” There was desperation written all across his face, and she realized he had been just as eager to see her as she had been to see him. Maybe even more.

“She didn't leave,” she answered. “She's still here.”

Adrien looked past her, as if expecting to see Marinette come out from behind one of the many piles of boxes, and then his gaze flicked back to her face. He looked very confused. “She is? Where?”

There was no way to go back anymore. This was it.

“Right here, Adrien.”

He opened his mouth, puzzled, about to say something. Probably to ask what she meant. She let her transformation come undone before he could speak, leaving Marinette standing where Ladybug had been just moments ago. There was no way for him to possibly misunderstand that.

She fixed her gaze downwards and waited for him to speak.

Adrien's hands slid off her shoulders and dropped to his sides. He still hadn't said a word. The seconds lengthened into a minute, and still he was silent. Marinette began to wish she hadn't said anything.

Then she heard a muffled, _I really shouldn't laugh but oh God do I want to_ sort of chuckle. She looked up and saw him clap a hand over the grin that was spreading across his face.

The next thing she knew, Adrien had burst into peals of laughter and was bent double, clutching at his sides as he laughed himself red in the face. Her face began to burn with shame. This had been a horrible idea. A horrible, horrible idea. She had thought he would have at least had the decency not to laugh right in her face. How could he do this? How could her partner, her friend, the boy who said he loved her, laugh at her like this? Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “I think I should leave,” she mumbled, and started towards the door.

That seemed to get Adrien's attention. He straightened a little, although he was still laughing, and reached out to catch her hand. “No, Marinette, wait,” he managed to get out between laughs. “I—I'm sorry. I just—you—I'm not laughing at _you_ , I'm—” He dissolved into laughter again.

Marinette waited hesitantly for him to recover his ability to speak.

It took a minute, but finally Adrien was able to stop laughing, although he was still grinning like he thought this whole thing was the height of hilarity. “I'm sorry, Marinette,” he apologized again. “I wasn't laughing at you, I swear. I was laughing at myself. I've been an idiot. I thought I was in love with two people and you were the same person the whole time.”

Marinette met his gaze, all of Ladybug's confidence long gone. Part of her mind was dimly aware of the fact that he was still holding onto her hand, but most of her focus was on the dawning realization that Adrien had just said he was in love with her. It took her a minute to notice that he was waiting for her to say something. She fumbled for words, any words, to construct a coherent sentence.

“You're really Chat Noir?”

_Smooth, Marinette. Real smooth._

Adrien looked taken aback for a second, but then he broke out grinning again. “The one and only, Princess.”

She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Adrien was Chat Noir. Chat Noir knew she was Ladybug. There were no more secrets between the two of them. No more boundaries. No more “I like someone else” or conflicted emotions.

Adrien must have been thinking the same thing. “Although I suppose I should really be calling you my lady, shouldn't I?” He lifted her hand to his lips, as he had done so many times without her knowing it, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He raised one eyebrow at her playfully.

Marinette felt her face burning and wished she still had her mask on to hide her blush. This was every dream she had ever imagined come true. She knew she ought to respond, but her brain seemed to have gone on vacation to la-la land and wasn't supplying anything useful.

When it became clear she was too out of it to answer, Adrien sighed and shook his head with an amused smile. “Cat got your tongue, my lady? You could talk to me just fine last night after I kissed you.” He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering over her Miraculous as he withdrew his hand. “Or do I need to be Chat Noir for you to be comfortable with talking to me? Because that's going to make this relationship awfully hard.”

“I …” Was that all she could say? _“I”?_ Why couldn't she form proper sentences? He had a point; she'd talked to him perfectly fine last night when he was Chat Noir. It shouldn't be any different talking to him now when he was Adrien. Not when she knew they were the same person. _It's Chat. You're talking to Chat. This is no different than talking to Chat Noir as Ladybug. You're the same exact people, just without the masks. You can do this._ “I never thought you would turn out to be Chat Noir,” she murmured. “I … You just seem so different. When you're Chat Noir, I mean.”

“You're pretty different as Ladybug, yourself,” he pointed out. He looked away. “There's a lot less pressure on me to act a certain way when I'm Chat Noir. Nobody expects me to be perfect.”

Marinette was reminded suddenly of what he had said, the first night he'd visited her in her room. _“They just like the idea of him.”_ Maybe he'd been speaking more from experience than she thought.

Adrien continued, “I should have been able to figure out you were Ladybug. I saw the similarities. And for some reason I just never fit the pieces together. If I had known sooner, I …”

She shook her head and put a finger over his lips to stop him from berating himself anymore. “I should have told you sooner.” It was getting easier to talk now that she was thinking of this as a conversation between Ladybug and Chat.

There was a faint pinkish tinge in Adrien's cheeks as he moved her hand away and offered her a lopsided, sheepish grin. “I guess we've both been making some pretty stupid mistakes, haven't we?”

Marinette was able to manage a tiny smile in reply. “I guess we have.”

They stood there for a while, just smiling at one another without a word as afternoon light filtered through the room's lone window and the shadows across the floor lengthened. Adrien was first to break the silence, clearing his throat and looking shy. “So … um … Marinette …”

“Yes?”

The pink tinge in his cheeks spread and reddened. “This might be a little sudden, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

Now it was Marinette's turn to blush. “I'd like that,” she admitted softly.

Adrien's face lit up. Without any hesitation, he reached out and pulled her closer. “Close your eyes?” he requested.

Marinette did as he asked.

Adrien's lips pressed against hers, gentle and more than a little tentative at first. Then, as both of them relaxed and melted into the other's familiar touch, the kiss became less reserved and more passionate. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, one hand at her waist and the other sliding up into her hair. Marinette stood on tiptoe to give him better access and clutched at his shoulders until her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. She tilted her head further as he deepened the kiss, part of her still marveling at the incredible stroke of luck that had brought them both here to this moment. Stolen and secretive though it may be, it was wonderful. Adrien placed scattered kisses across her face, and Marinette relished in the feeling of his lips soft and warm against her skin.

“My lady,” he murmured as he kissed her, “there's something I've been meaning to tell you since Valentine's Day. Will you let me tell you now?”

“Tikki, spots on,” Marinette breathed. Tikki flew into her Miraculous from wherever she had been—Marinette had been too distracted to pay attention to her kwami's location—and Marinette saw a flash of white against her eyelids as her transformation took hold. “I've heard it as Marinette,” she explained to Adrien, opening her eyes. “But I'd like to hear it as Ladybug too.”

He grinned. “Plagg, claws out.” There was a green flash of light, and then he was Chat Noir. Her partner. The one with whom she had fallen in love without even realizing it. He pulled her in closer against him and cupped her cheek in one hand. The nervousness he'd had on Valentine's Day was nowhere to be seen, replaced with tenderness and confidence.

“Ladybug, I love you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I've never in my life gotten so many hits on something I've written, especially in such a short amount of time! Thank you for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!  
> The next chapter is really more of a bonus scene, so don't feel obligated to read it. This part wraps up the storyline for Valentines and Denial. (But, I mean, I won't stop you if you want to read the bonus...)


	8. Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bonus for kicks and giggles, set a few years in the future.

“What is that?” Adrien eyed the box in Marinette's arms with trepidation as she set it down with a heavy thud on their kitchen counter.

“Plastic dinnerware,” Marinette answered matter-of-factly, gesturing to the side of the box. The words _plastic dining set_ were written across the cardboard in thick black letters. “See?”

He frowned in confusion. “What do we need plastic dinnerware for? We have a china set already.” It seemed silly, at least to Adrien, to have two sets of dinnerware for just the two of them. They didn't use _that_ many dishes at meals.

“We need a plastic set because _somebody_ ” —she jabbed a finger into his chest— “keeps breaking the china.”

“It was just one dish!” Adrien protested.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, maybe two,” he hedged.

She was still looking skeptical.

“It hasn't been that many,” he insisted. This wasn't the first time he'd been given a hard time about breaking dishes. In the two years they had now been married, he had lost count of the number of times Marinette had scolded him. “Not enough that we need to replace the china.”

Marinette opened the box and began unloading its contents onto the counter, as if to make a point. “This isn't replacing the china. We'll still use it. But only when guests are visiting. This is for when it's just the two of us.”

“But that's the same as replacing the china,” he argued. They didn't have guests over often, unless you counted the visits from Marinette's parents every other week. The china would barely see any use at all if they saved it for guests.

“Should have thought of that before you broke those plates,” Marinette muttered under her breath. She continued taking plastic dishes out of the box.

Adrien captured her hands in his, halting her work. “We don't need these.”

Rather than the playful, amused look he expected, she shot him a glare. She must really be in a bad mood today. He wondered if something had happened. “Yes, we do, Adrien. I don't want you breaking any more dishes. It would be one thing if you broke one or two on accident, but when you deliberately keep pushing them off the counter—”

“I'm sorry, Mari, okay? It won't happen again.”

“You said that the last five times it happened.”

“I mean it this time!”

“We're using the plastic ones.”

Now Adrien was getting frustrated. Marinette's foul temper was rarely directed at him, but when it was they usually ended up bickering. It never became what could be termed a genuine fight—neither of them could stay mad at the other long enough for it to turn into a full-blown fight. All the same, he hated being on the wrong end of her temper. “China.”

“Plastic.”

“China,” he insisted.

“Plastic.” She pulled her hands out of his and continued removing dishes from the box one at a time.

“China.”

“Plastic.”

“China.”

“Adrien.”

“What?”

“We're not using the china anymore. End of story.”

“But—”

Marinette turned around and yanked him down for a kiss that was clearly meant to shut him up. He was more than happy to oblige, even if it meant she would consider the debate to be over in her favor. Kissing was preferable to arguing. She pulled out of the kiss again much too soon for his liking.

“Plastic it is,” she announced, and turned back to the counter to take the last of the new dinnerware set out of the box.

Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his face against the back of her neck. “Can we use the china every now and then?”

She hesitated. He could feel it in the set of her posture. She was considering.

“We'll see,” was all she said.

“My lady,” he wheedled. He pulled her closer.

There was another pause.

“This is not fair,” Marinette griped.

Adrien kissed the side of her neck. “It's perfectly fair.”

“You're being mean.”

“Am not.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Are too. Just like when you decided to be a terrible person and laugh at my secret identity.”

Adrien sighed. This was a favorite thing of hers to bring up. At least it indicated that she wasn't really mad at him anymore. She only brought it up when she was in a teasing mood and wanted him to shower her with affection, never when she was angry. “I wasn't laughing at you.”

“I was heartbroken.”

“Mari.”

“Young girls are very sensitive, you know.”

“I'm sorry.”

She turned around in his arms until she was facing him. “You should make it up to me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “First agree that we can use the china once a week.”

Marinette hesitated, but then nodded her assent reluctantly. “Fine. But _only_ once a week. And if you break any more of the dishes then the deal is off.”

Adrien beamed. “I won't.”

“You'd better not.”

His smile became a crooked grin, and he leaned in to plant little kisses all over her face. “I'll be the best behaved cat in Paris, my lady.”

~

Two weeks later, there was a broken bowl on the kitchen floor, an “I told you so” from Marinette, and a new lock on the china cabinet.

 


End file.
